The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 3Maupassant, Guy de
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The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 3
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
I interrupted him in spite of myself, as if his words had pained me, and
I thought of those pale green eyes, those magic eyes, eyes to be dreamt
about, which were the color of grasshoppers, and I looked for them, and
saw them in the darkness; they danced before me like phosphorescent
lights, and I would have given then the whole contents of my purse to
that man if he would only have been silent and urged his horses on to
full speed, so that their mad gallop might carry me off quickly, quickly
and far, and continually further from that girl.
THE MARQUIS
It was quite useless to expostulate when that obstinate little Sonia,
with a Russian name and Russian caprices, had said: "I choose to do it."
She was so delicate and pretty also, with her slightly turned-up nose,
and her rosy and childish cheeks, while every female perversity was
reflected in the depths of her strange eyes, which were the color of the
sea on a stormy evening. Yes, she was very charming, very fantastic, and
above all, so Russian, so deliciously and imperiously Russian, and all
the more Russian, as she came from Montmarte, and in spite of this, not
one of her seven lovers who composed her usual menagerie had laughed
when their enslaver said one day:
"You know my feudal castle at Pludun-Herlouet, near Saint
Jacut-de-la-Mer, which I bought two years ago, and in which I have not
yet set foot? Very well, then! The day after to-morrow, which is the
first of May, we will have a house-warming there."
The seven had not asked for any further explanation, but had accompanied
little Sonia, and were now ready to sit down to dinner under her
presidency in the dining-room of the old castle, which was situated ten
hours from Paris. They had arrived there that morning; they were going
to have dinner and supper together, and start off again at daybreak next
morning; such were Sonia's orders, and nobody had made the slightest
objection.
Two of her admirers, however, who were not yet used to her sudden whims,
had felt some surprise, which was quickly checked by expressions of
enthusiastic pleasure on the part of the others.
"What a delightful, original idea! Nobody else would have thought of
such things! Positively, nobody else. Oh! these Russians!" But those who
had known her for some time, and who had been consequently educated not
to be surprised at anything, found it all quite natural.
It was half-past six in the evening, and the gentlemen were going to
dress. Sonia had made up her mind to keep on her morning-gown, or if she
dressed, she would do so later. Just then she was not inclined to move
out of her great rocking-chair, from which she could see the sun setting
over the sea. The sight always delighted her very much. It might have
been taken for a large red billiard ball, rebounding from the green
cloth. How funny it was! And how lucky that she was all alone to look at
it, for those seven would not have understood it at all! Those men never
have any soul, have they?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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